Whispers at Midnight
by Malachite
Summary: A pretty boy's thoughts in the middle of the night, about his love life. YAOI!


**Whispers at Midnight**

**A Final Fantasy VIII YAOI fanfic**

**By Malachite of Rune Tear (Squall Leonhart)******

Wow, another one-night fic (or is this a ficlet?) from me.  This contains an impossibly rare and unheard of pairing, which is revealed at the end…Characters don't belong to me, they're Squaresoft's and other peoples'.  I don't have any claim to them, though this fanfic is mine and I appreciate you notifying me if you want to archive it somewhere.  Comments, Criticism, Flames, Rants…I'll accept any feedback you give me.  REVIEW!  E-mail is malachite84@yahoo.com, my website for archiving this and my other fanfics is at .  Enjoy the fic.  Oh yeah, and this is YAOI, involving two guys in a relationship.  Whatever, eh? 

     12:00 at night and I lie awake on the cool sheets of the king-size bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling of the Garden dormitory.  I really can't believe we ended up together.  I really can't.  I refuse to accept that this is reality.  It's obviously some fanciful dream and any second I'll wake up in bed, all alone, as always.  But then he takes me in his arms and makes my conviction vanish.  Yes, I want this to be real…and…I guess it is?  It's amazing…it's unbelievable.  It's practically impossible, really, that we of all people should have our paths crossed and intertwined, bound together from now on.  It truly is a dream come true…

     He rolls over in his sleep, his firm chest now pressed against my back, his body heat warming my skin.  I feel his breath, soft and even, tickling my neck.  I close my eyes for just a few seconds to enjoy the sensation, a feeling that I still haven't gotten used to, and I hope I never do either.  His arms wrap around my waist underneath the blanket and sheet we're snuggled under, drawing me even closer to his warm slumbering body.  My lover's…no, boyfriend's…deep voice rumbles in my ear, murmurs not distinguishable as any words in any language.  Except for one word, that is, that I've grown so unconsciously aware of straining to make out…to hear…over and over again…my name, from his lips.

     I close my eyes and take a deep breath of the cool air-conditioned air, completely at ease and relaxed in my current position.  Yeah, I'm not sleepy, but that's okay.  After all, I've spent countless nights awake before I met him, all alone.  I prefer staying awake with him holding me than what I went through in my past bouts of insomnia.  With his strong muscled arms around me, I feel safe…secure…and no, I don't feel weak or fragile, despite his obvious larger build pressed against me.  In fact, he just makes me feel stronger…in mind, body, and heart…cause I know that we'll face my problems…his problems…our problems, together.

     I indulge myself in breathing out one small sigh of contentment.  Of course I don't want to wake him up.  He has to get up early tomorrow, the poor guy.  What was it he had to do again?  Oh yeah, a calisthenics class with some trainees.  And who was the one who assigned him that awful job at the most horrible time, the early morning hours?  Yours truly.  Well, in my defense, we weren't together when I filled out duty rosters.  And now that he has been the one teaching them, the spoiled kids refuse to settle for anyone else.  Of course, it might just be their amusement and/or sexual frustration making that decision for them.  It is interesting to watch my very built and very tall boyfriend in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants demand (and perform himself as well) 200 one-armed pushups.  Of course, the class would use both arms, if they so chose, but this branded them as weaklings compared to the massive instructor.  Have I mentioned that my guy is muscular?  Really…gorgeously…impressively…muscular.  I mean, this guy posed for Balamb Fitness magazine four times over the past seven months…

     My mind sure does wander when I'm tired.  Well, is that necessarily a bad thing?  After all, the best ideas come when one just lets his brain float free and throw out whatever.  Of course, that also is what causes amazingly huge amounts of trouble.  But still, acting on instinct has its advantages.  I got a loving boyfriend out of the deal.  It was him who was the impulsive person, and he approached me first.  Several times, first with just friendly banter, then as we got closer without me realizing it, the conversations turned more and more personal.  When I managed to get drunk due to Selphie spiking my entire thermos of coffee with who KNOWS what, he was the one to take care of me.  It was kind of fun being picked up like I weighed practically nothing and carried to his quarters.  

     We only went in his because I couldn't actually remember my pass code to the keypad on my suite of rooms.  Yes, the stuff WAS that strong!  …And I can't handle alcohol either, as he has told me countless times.  Not that I like drinking…beer is truly nasty stuff, as is the wine that idiot cowboy Irvine constantly tries to get me to try.  Or was it brandy?  The question is: Do I GIVE a care?  Nope, I don't.  

     Erm, what was I thinking?  Oh yeah, when I got accidentally smashed and he took me to his quarters.  The rooms were spotless, something that I was mildly surprised of.  After all, he usually dresses really comfortable, never one for unnecessary clothing.  But, he had a collection of glass sculptures that was truly beautiful.  My favorite was a howling wolf, in perfect detail down to each individual hair in its coat.  Just looking at it pulls you into the dark moist night that would be ideal for a full moon.  Whoa, I get way too easily distracted.  Let's see…I can't really remember much of his room then, as everything was sort of spinning around and flipping upside down every other minute.  I remember seeing several training weapons neatly stacked on a rack in one corner, not gaudily displayed on some wall like most SeeDs preferred.  

     He likes blue…an awful lot.  Dark, deep, ocean blue.  He says the color reminds him of my eyes…he tells me that they're gray usually but they turn dark blue when I get, as he terms it, "emotional".  Just what IS emotional anyways?  I honestly have no idea when and if my eye color changes, but I take his word for it.  The blue furnishings aren't overdone at all though, and quite a bit of the room was in mild gray and white as well.  My man has taste as well, though he leaves me and others guessing about his choice in clothing.  Still, he insists on going out like that, and I don't even try change him.  He's perfect, just the way he is.

     Now that I think about it, I am really glad I didn't throw up then.  That would have been so embarrassing.  Instead, he just plopped me on his bed and wiped my face with a damp cool cloth, which I guess is supposed to help someone when they're not feeling well.  Personally, I've never seen a washcloth magically draw any alcohol and/or drugs out of someone's system, but apparently HE thought this was the proper procedure.  I think I just fell asleep after that, as I can't remember anything else.  Anyways, I woke up who knows how many hours later with him asleep on the bed next to me, one large hand pressing firmly down on my chest.  I tried to move his arm so I could escape, and almost succeeded, except that his room decided to spin around violently as I got to my feet, throwing my down on top of his broad back.  He woke up in an instant, then chuckled and picked me up, placing me back in his bed.  His eyes were so friendly, so warm…I actually cracked a smile, causing him to grin brightly.  I guessed making the resident Commander Ice-heart smile just made his day.  And I was right too, in that assumption.

     Things were normal, more or less, for a few days after that, though somehow I drew closer and closer to him.  It never hit me until later that somehow he had made us go from barely saying hi to each other in passing to us going out to eat together every other night.  I finally asked him…in my stupid idiotic blunt and oh so naïve way…why he was trying so hard to be friendly.  His answer?  Well, his answer was as blunt and unexpected as my question: "I love ya, Squall".  And then, and I still don't know how, we were suddenly kissing, in the middle of Balamb's only Chinese restaurant.  Thankfully, no one really noticed, or if they did, didn't dare stare at the muscle-bound man and the other, smaller, skinnier, and shorter man (hey, I'm still pretty built though!).  Of course, this other man had a very large, sharp gunblade strapped to his waist.  What?  Something wrong with me carrying my weapon everywhere?  The restaurant employees don't dare make a fuss, with me being some "savior" or whatever the media branded me as.  So why not take advantage of the situation by making sure I'm safe?  Yeah, sounds stupid, but there's no way I fought through all of that just to get thrashed by some idiot gang kids or a rabid Fungeye.  Lionheart being close to me makes me feel good anyways…though I like having my boyfriend close to me even better.

     We haven't told anyone that we're a couple yet, but he plans on telling his friends soon, as soon as I get enough courage to tell mine.  Quistis knows already, I think, and maybe Selphie does too.  I know none of them are gay-bashers or haters, but still, I want to take my time.  Besides, it's kind of fun stealing kisses in deserted hallways or in the training center.  A hoard of T-rexaurs tried to interrupt us once when we were naked and our weapons were out of reach.  That was truly stupid of them…we both keep a GF and a few magic spells handy, at my insisting that we "always be prepared" (condoms too, heh heh).  Between my Blizzaga magic, his Thundaga spells, and me finally summoning Shiva, we wiped out the entire pack before they could get more than a few roars out.  He seems to be a tad paranoid about summoning, and Quezacotl never gets to see much action, but he has no problem with me calling on Shiva to clear a nice path for us before we get done to the dirty business.  Even monsters with the tiniest brains stay away once they see a few dozen of their brethren fall to a Diamond Dust blast.

     Tonight we watched a few romantic sappy movies with enough heart pounding action scenes to keep us both not too nauseated.  Still, I don't think either of us really watched the videos.  We were a bit too preoccupied with making out and cuddling…alternating, depending on the mood.  He's a surprisingly good chef, and the homemade pizza he made was amazing, even if he did like to mound toppings a mile high and put extra cheese on the pie.  He even had some extra sauce for me to dip my crusts in, which was unexpectedly considerate and awfully sweet of him.  He seems intent on getting at least one gushy lovey-dovey reaction from me.  I'm no woman, and I still am cold and gunblade-edge-sharp with most people, especially at work, but he makes me feel warm inside.  With him, I don't need any pretexts, I don't need any masks.  He just listens and holds me when I need to be held, offering a few words of wisdom that I know are true, even if I don't like to admit it when I'm upset.

     I shift and roll over in his embrace so that I'm peering up into his face.  His lips twitch slightly and I can't help but whisper his name.  He cracks open a deep brown eye and flashes a tired smile.  "Go to sleep, Squall…I got that class in the morning, ya know."  I return the smile and nod, running my fingers through his short thick black hair for a moment then brushing my fingertips down the length of his broad back, feeling the strength lying underneath the dark tan skin.  Snuggling into the warmth of his nude muscled body, I close my eyes and find myself drifting off to sleep.  "Love you, Raijin…Sweet dreams…" I murmur softly as I drift into my own slumber.

**_Dedicated to yaoi_flavored_raijin, my Man of Thunder.  I miss our RP and hope you come online soon…. -Love, Squall_**


End file.
